The big wall that supports the approach was another difficult part of the work. In one place this is over forty feet high, and more than half as thick at the bottom. Just think of a solid stone wall as high as a house and more than half as thick at its base! It narrows down to two or three feet in thickness at its top, like a pyramid of masonry, and above this will be a railing to prevent people from falling off, for there is to be a sidewalk along the outer edge of the driveway here. It took many, many months to build that wall alone.
There will be two sidewalks in most parts of the new boulevard, but people will be allowed to cross from one to the other only at certain points, and then under the roadway. It would be dangerous to cross where fast horses are constantly passing, so there will be two or three tunnels, or transverse culverts, as the engineers call them, at different parts of the driveway. These tunnels will pass under the road-bed, connecting both sidewalks with stone steps at either side. Sewer culverts, too, have been built at a number of points along the driveway, for the amount of rain that drains off the slopes at the side of the boulevard after a storm would almost undermine it if there were not proper outlets for the water.
THE COFFER-DAM AT THE BEGINNING OF THE LEVEL STRETCH.
Another engineering difficulty was found when the workmen reached the lower end of the approach, for the rocky bluffs end suddenly there before the approach has reached the level of the crib-work. Here they had to dig down forty feet in the mud to get a hard bottom for the rest of the support. A wooden wall was built around the spot to keep the water out, and inside of this "coffer-dam," as the engineers call it, the masons laid the foundations for the last end of the stone wall. It was almost impossible to keep the wooden sides from leaking too, and they had to keep pumps at work almost all the time to prevent the inside from filling with water.
The work was stopped for the winter, but as soon as the mild weather comes again the river front will once more swarm with an army of workmen, and the busy little ants will tear down a lot of the work that has been done and do it all over again. The mistake of the engineers will make the new boulevard cost hundreds of thousands of dollars more than it was expected, and New York will have to pay over two million dollars for her new speedway before it is finished.
[MOLLY PITCHER.]
In all our school histories—that is, histories of the United States—honorable mention is made of Molly Pitcher, who did good service as a soldier in the Revolutionary war. None of these text-books gives us any clew to Molly's origin, but nearly all of them tell us that the brave woman lies in an unmarked grave, after having passed away without the recognition of her ungrateful country. Sometimes she is buried on the banks of the Hudson, but as a general thing the historians leave us to infer that the location of her grave is entirely unknown. This is all wrong, and I hope that the compiler of the next school history of our country will read what is here told of the heroine, and after verifying the facts, give in his book such attention to the true story of her life as her services entitle her to.
Mary Ludwig was the daughter of Pennsylvania Dutch parents, industrious people with a large family to support. In 1768, when about twenty years old, Mary "hired out" as maid of all work in the family of William Irvine of Carlisle, and on July 24th of the following year became the wife of John Casper Hayes, the town barber. Seven years later, when the war broke out, Hayes enlisted as a private in the First Pennsylvania Artillery, but was afterward transferred to the Seventh Pennsylvania Infantry, commanded by Colonel William Irvine, his wife's former employer. When the artillery regiment was ordered to go to the front Molly marched with it, having obtained the authority of the Colonel (Thomas Proctor) to serve in her husband's battery as cook and laundress. At the battle of Monmouth (Freehold), New Jersey, Hayes was wounded while serving his gun; but his place was soon filled by his wife, who rushed to the front when she heard of his fall, picked up the rammer he had dropped, and till the battle ended did as good service in loading the piece as could have been done by the best-drilled man in the battery. When the fight was over, Molly busied herself in carrying water for the wounded, and it was from this service she came by the pet name "Molly Pitcher."